Send in the Clowns
by ScapeArtist
Summary: Hook helps Mary Margaret get ready for baby Neal's first birthday. The young prince exhibits a new talent to clown around with. Starts with Captain Swan, but is really more of a Hook/Snow brotp story. One-shot.


**A/N: I was given the request for the phrase "Where the fuck did that clown come from" and the pairing of Hook & Snow from a dialogue meme of "light" prompts. It's not angsty, but, you know, clowns. Fair warning.**

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"Why can't I come with you? Or better yet, why couldn't I just come later?" Killian asked as he stepped out of Emma's Bug after she parked it in front of her parents' new house.

"Because David is coming with me. And my mother is going to need help getting things set up for the party," she answered as she vacated the driver's seat.

"Aye, I get that, but wouldn't your father be the better choice to stay behind?"

Emma tilted her head and looked closely at him. "Really? We are picking up a bouncy house. An _inflatable_, rubber bouncy house. One false move with your hook and there goes all the fun."

"I could just wear my fake hand, love. That way I won't puncture anything," he suggested.

"Have you ever lifted a bouncy house? You actually need all four working hands. It's completely unwieldy and ridiculous. I'm sorry," she said. He knew she did her best not to point out his shortcomings, but it still made him feel less than adequate.

"What's the big deal anyway? Just help Mary Margaret. We won't be gone that long," Emma continued, the irritation starting to give her voice an edge he distinctly did not want to hear. As she came around to his side of the car, her expression changed from frustration into something more akin to smugness. She put her hands on her hips and clucked her tongue. "You're afraid of her."

Killian shrugged and looked away. "No!...Not exactly."

"'Not exactly?' What are you _exactly_?" she pressed.

"It's just that she's..." he trailed off, still refusing to make eye-contact.

Emma moved closer to draw his attention back to her and looked at him expectantly but with a slight warning in the set of her lips to pick his words carefully.

Sighing because he knew he wasn't getting out of the conversation, Killian confessed, "Well, love, she's none too pleased with me most of the time. I don't seem to be able to do anything right in her eyes."

Emma shook her head and grabbed his hand, giving it a squeeze. "Oh, please. She likes you. You saved my dad for Pete's sake! Relax. Go help her with my brother so we can get this party done with."

"Fine."

"And Killian?" Emma moved in closer, twining her fingers with his.

"Hmmm?" he intoned catching the glint in her eyes as she smiled at him.

"If you help her out, there might be ... rewards in your future."

Killian wasn't going to be bribed out of his disappointment at having to stay behind. He wasn't a child after all. He could be the bigger person. "Not having her shoot an arrow in my back will be reward enough, lass."

Emma shrugged. "Ok, well, see it your way, but I was thinking more along these lines..." She released his hand and cupped hers over his ear as she leaned over to whisper in it.

Maybe he could be bribed after all.

"Vixen," he growled, hooking her belt loop with his finger and pulling her close to kiss her soundly.

The scrape of the garage door and the rattling noises coming from David's beat up truck as it backed out of the garage made Killian and Emma jump apart as if they were a couple of teenagers about to get caught making out. David pulled the truck over and rolled the window down.

"Hey, Killian! What're you doing here?" he asked, happy to see his friend, but also obviously unsure as to why he was there so early for the party.

"I'm here to help your lovely wife while you and Emma run your errand."

"Oh. I'm sure Snow will be...happy to have the help," David said with an overly bright smile.

Killian shot a glare at Emma. _See?_ She rolled her eyes and hopped in the passenger seat of the truck.

"Be right back," she said, leaning forward so he could see her around David as they began to drive off.

Her wave and smile were far too enthusiastic for his liking, but her promise of more pleasurable activities lingered in his thoughts, and pushed aside any bother at helping Snow.

Killian walked up the narrow path edged with flowers and knocked on the front door. Tugging at the hem of his black v-neck sweater to smooth out any wrinkles and making sure he looked presentable, Killian could hear Neal babbling in the background and Mary Margaret talking to him in a happy voice that got louder the closer she came to the door.

The door swung open to reveal a very surprised Snow White. "Oh. Killian. I wasn't expecting you," Snow said, as she looked past him to see where Emma was.

"Aye, well, Emma asked me to help you while she and David retrieved the...uh..." Killian forgot what Emma called that contraption she was going after.

"Bouncy house," she finished for him.

"Aye. That. Bouncy house."

"Well, come on in. I was trying to get some of the food prepped, but Neal is being a bit needy, so I haven't gotten very far. Maybe you could entertain him for me? You do seem to be one of his favorite people," she said.

Killian pressed a tight smile and said, "Well, he's young. I'm sure he'll change his mind about that. Much like his namesake."

Mary Margaret's eyes widened and her eyebrows arched high on her forehead. "Ohkaay...well, if you could keep him contained to that part of the living room over there for the time being, that would be wonderful."

"Are you sure? I could—"

"Yes. I'm sure," she interrupted, brooking no argument.

"Very well." Killian scooped up Neal who was pulling himself up on the couch to toddle over to him, a drooly grin breaking across his round face. "Come along, lad. I see a full bookshelf over there for us to plunder."

The room was festooned with streamers and balloons that Neal kept reaching for as they made their way over to the section of the living room with his toys. It was a bit much in Killian's opinion, but it was the Prince's first birthday and something worth celebrating after everything they'd all been through. Pulling a string attached to a particularly bright red balloon, Killian brought it down eye-level with Neal and then said "Poof!" and let it go back up to the ceiling. Neal giggled and waved "bye-bye" to it.

Killian dropped down to the floor and sat cross-legged with Neal in his lap, his little overall-clad legs kicking over the edge of Killian's, and his head bobbing enough to tickle Killian's chin with his fine hair at every bounce of his legs. Grabbing a stack of books from the shelf before them, Killian began rifling through until he found a few that looked promising.

They read for a while, Killian sometimes doing voices (Neal especially liked to hear _Brown Bear, Brown Bear_ in Killian's deep voice, but preferred _The Very Hungry Caterpillar_ in a higher pitch), and sometimes just flipping the pages pointing out pictures and their words. They were in the middle of a story about a circus told from the perspective of a little boy who lived with the circus folk, when Killian felt a wave of electricity radiate out through him. He'd stopped for a moment wondering if Emma had come back and was outside using magic to set up the bouncy house, but when she didn't make her presence known, he continued reading with the toddler, thinking he'd been mistaken about what he felt.

They'd just finished another book when the sound of a dish crashing to the floor was followed by Mary Margaret shouting, "Where _the fuck_ did that clown come from?!"

Both Killian and Neal turned to see what was going on, and while Killian recoiled, a look of horror on his face, the baby clapped his hands and began crawling over toward the miniature clown—about half the size of Neal—who was juggling and doing flips across the floor of the open kitchen.

"_What in bloody hell_...?" Killian bit out. "Neal, get back here!" he cried after the boy.

The tiny clown, with a curly pink wig over a painted white face with oversized red lips and bulbous, red nose, was wearing a blue shirt with a wide orange and red striped tie and large, purple pants several sizes too big at the waist and held up by suspenders. Peeking out from between the too short pants legs and the very long, floppy shoes, were yellow and red striped socks. If he hadn't appeared out of nowhere and wasn't actually on the move, Killian might have considered the jester innocuous if not amusing. Unfortunately, Emma had introduced him to one too many horror movies with evil clowns, so now he was just this side of terrified. Seemed Mary Margaret had watched those same movies if the look on her face was any indication.

He saw her slowly reach for the large kitchen knife on the counter as he swapped out his false hand as unobtrusively as he could for his hook that was stashed in the back pocket of his jeans. Neal, in the meantime, had stopped crawling, sat up, and babbled happily at the dancing clown while laughing in delight. Killian could feel another wave like the first ripple the air.

Just then the clown multiplied into several identical clowns. Mary Margaret gasped and clutched the knife tighter and looked over at Killian, her mouth agape.

Still on edge, Killian said, "Highness, I believe the young prince shares a particular trait with his older sister."

"Magic?" she asked with more than a little concern.

"Aye," he said holding up the circus book they had been reading with the clown Neal materialized.

"No _way_."

"I take it he has not exhibited this particular talent before today?" Killian inquired with some urgency as he watched more of the clowns begin another round of their routine only this time closer to Neal.

"No. How do we stop this?" she asked as yet another group of the clowns formed up in rank on her floor, much to little Neal's excitement.

"If you pardon the expression, milady, fuck if I know," he said, still flabbergasted at the vision before him.

"Quick, Killian, grab him!" she exclaimed as yet another group of clowns materialized, making things a bit more crowded in the room.

Killian snatched Neal up around the boy's belly just as one group of clowns made ready to do somersaults over his head. He, himself, had to leap over a few of them to get behind the counter with Mary Margaret after depositing Neal on top of the counter that separated the kitchen from the living room.

"Neal, honey, it's time to make the clowns go bye-bye, OK?" she requested with a smile that was on the edge of manic.

Instead, the clowns collectively began forming a pyramid, tossing one another up the top and then back down again, flowing like liquid. It would have been impressive if the way they kept multiplying wasn't so frightening. They now covered most of the floor.

"This is insane!" Mary Margaret cried.

"I suppose we should be grateful he wasn't taken with the lions," Killian offered.

Mary Margaret huffed impatiently and looked at him askance. "Is that the best you can do?"

"I'm thinking!" he shot back.

"Well, I can't just go out there stabbing clowns with the kitchen knife!" Snow exclaimed. "I'll traumatize Neal. And myself!"

Killian looked around the room trying to figure out how to eradicate the multitude of miniature clowns before they were swarmed and overtaken. The balloons were starting to sway and drift around the room from the air being pushed about by the legions of tiny clowns doing acrobatics. Killian grabbed the one closest to him and gave Snow a devious smile.

"I've an idea," he said.

"I don't think we can float out on those," Snow said.

"We're not going to. Just turn Neal so he can't see the clowns anymore and let me handle the rest," he requested.

Doing as he asked, Snow pulled Neal to her and stood him up on the counter facing them instead of the show in the living room. "Now what?" she asked.

Killian waved his hook at Neal as he held the balloon in front of his chest. Then, with a big smile, he touched the sharp point of his hook to the thin rubber and popped it with a loud "bang!" Neal's eyes got big at the noise, and then tears started to well in his eyes. While he was sorry to upset the lad, he was elated to see the clown population begin to immediately disintegrate.

"Hurry, Killian! Get some more of the balloons! It's working!" Mary Margaret encouraged him while starting to console Neal half-heartedly.

Dodging around the high-flying apparitions, Killian grabbed a handful of balloons and cut them away from where they were anchored with his hook and brought the bunch into the entrance of the kitchen. With a nod from Mary Margaret, he began popping the balloons until Neal was wailing, and, two more destroyed bunches of balloons later, all the clowns had finally disappeared.

Killian looked at his hook with a satisfied grin, then up at Snow and said, "Emma was right. One false move with my hook, and there goes all the fun."

Snow gave him a chuckle born of her relief even as she tried shushing Neal's cries. Neal, for his part, refused to even look at Killian when he came over to try and help calm him. Rejected, Killian cleaned up all the rubber and string debris and threw them out in the garbage just as Emma and David walked through the front door.

"So, how'd it go?" Emma asked, looking between her mother and Killian with pointed curiosity.

Mary Margaret spoke up first in her most nonchalant tone. "Oh, you know. Magical as always."

The two glanced at each other, grins pulling the corners of their mouths at their inside joke.

Emma's brows knit together as she took her sniffling brother from her mother's arms. "That's...good?"

"Aye, well, we've been busy you know. No time for clowning around," Killian added. Mary Margaret snorted and hid her mouth behind her hand as she giggled.

David, looking miffed, walked into the kitchen pulling the last of the balloons behind him. "Hey, where'd the rest of the balloons go?"

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**The book Killian and baby Neal were reading that inspired the clown is called "You See a Circus. I see..." It's actually an appropriate book for all of Storybrooke.**


End file.
